


Bloody Complications

by KitMiller



Series: Martin & Luke [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Betaed, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mild Blood, Urban Fantasy, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24391012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitMiller/pseuds/KitMiller
Summary: "This time, it was the rush of feelings that prevented Martin from replying at once. Surprise and gratitude and worry and love, so much love for Luke"Martin is in trouble. Luke can help.
Relationships: Martin Nicholls/Luke Gardner, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Martin & Luke [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761223
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Bloody Complications

**Author's Note:**

> For Beth.
> 
> I listened to [_Supernatural Sexuality With Dr Seabrook_](https://www.supersexradio.com/) before bed, had a vivid dream, had a million world-building ideas, and here we are.

Martin was still in bed when Luke came back into the room to change after his run. He dropped his running gear into the hamper and pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He gave the blanket cocoon a gentle shake. “You gotta get up at some point, honey.”

A drawn-out groan emanated from underneath the heap of duvets. Luke shook Martin a little more. “Stop,” Martin grunted.

“Or what?” Luke started peeling the layers of blankets off. Vampires really were impossible to get out of bed before noon. “Black-out curtains are all drawn, you have no excuse.”

Martin blinked sleepily when Martin pulled the last blanket away. His white-blond hair stood up in all directions, loaded with static electricity. His eyes were red-rimmed, with deep, dark bags underneath. He yawned hugely, his fangs glittering in the bright light. “I’m sorry, darling,” he murmured, slurring his words. “I’m afraid I don’t feel very gay today.”

Luke’s first impulse was to laugh. But then he had another look at his husband and his merriment vanished like a bird in their cat’s mouth. Martin usually kept up with current slang and semantics, and only slipped into outdated speech patterns when he was very drunk or very ill. And he wasn’t drunk.

Luke put a hand on Martin’s forehead and recoiled. “You’re cold as ice.”

Martin only grunted in response.

“I’m getting you a bag,” Luke said, straightening. “I’d tell you to stay put but I think you’ve got that covered.” He bundled Martin back up and headed downstairs.

Their cat, which Luke alternatively called Fluff, Fluffy, Fluffer, Fluffmonster, the Fluffinator, or His Most Supreme Fluffiness, and which Martin called The Cat, sat on the kitchen counter, meowing for milk. Luke poured him a saucer and put it on the floor. He replaced the milk in the big fridge and turned to the mini fridge beside it in which Martin kept the blood bags. When he opened it, he gasped and involuntarily clapped a hand over his mouth. There was only one bag left. And judging by the red puddle it lay in, there wasn’t much left in it, either. 

He couldn’t breathe properly. His heart oscillated between fluttering like a dying bird and pounding against his ribs like a woodpecker. He had to steady himself on the fridge door or his legs would have given out. His vision narrowed down onto the spilled bag. A drop of blood hit the ground, the sound of it hitting the tiles echoing in his ears like a gunshot.

Vampires had to drink every few days or they would starve. Judging by the state Martin was in, he didn’t even have that much. He needed blood, and he needed it _today_. And today was the first day of a three-day holiday weekend. The blood banks, not known for having customer-friendly opening hours at the best of times, were all closed.

Luke closed the fridge and looked up the staircase in apprehension, absently rubbing his forearm.

* * *

Martin had dozed off again, but woke when Luke came back. “You’re a treasure,” he managed to get out as he sat up. 

But Luke was empty-handed. “So… it appears we forgot to stock up,” he said, running his hands first up and down his dark hair and then interlacing his fingers at the back of his neck, his face taut.

Martin blinked. He had heard what Luke had said, but the meaning of his words only registered through the fog around his brain after a few moments. “Oh.” He touched his left fang with his tongue, a bad habit he had not been able to shake in the hundred years since he’d acquired it. His fingers felt cold when he interlaced them so Luke wouldn’t see them shake. He was glad he was still sitting down; the world was askew and he wasn’t sure he would be able to stay on his feet. His mind was going at a hundred miles an hour, rifling through solutions and dismissing each in turn. He desperately wanted to ask Luke to donate, but he couldn’t, he simply couldn’t ask that of him.

Luke took a deep breath. “It’s not going to hurt, is it?”

Martin frowned, momentarily distracted from catastrophising. “Starving?”

Luke stopped mid-fidget and tilted his head. “What? No. Donating.”

This time, it was the rush of feelings that prevented Martin from replying at once. Surprise and gratitude and worry and love, so much love for this man who offered to donate so matter-of-factly even though he was so evidently scared. Ten years they had been together now, married for six of those. And throughout all these years, Luke had had to endure the slurs and stigma and misconceptions hurled at him as a human with a vampire partner. How people assumed Martin must only keep him around for his blood, even though vampire blood banks had existed for twenty years. Martin had brought up donating during the early days of their relationship, incidentally and more as a formality than any real desire to have Luke donate; Martin preferred bags, anyway. But back then, Luke had already shown reluctance, and it had grown into fierce aversion over the years. 

And now, he said he was going to donate like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“A little,” Martin managed at last. “It’ll hurt a little at first.” He swallowed. “Thank you, dear.” The words weren’t big enough for the gratitude he felt.

Luke gave him a smile. “Anything, honey.” He breathed in deeply. “Okay, so, uh, how does this work?”

Unsteadily, Martin got to his feet. Stars rushed across his vision and he swayed. He screwed his eyes shut and waited for the throbbing in his temples to subside. He heard Luke move, and felt a warm hand on his upper arm. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, blinking. “Come on. Let’s go into the bathroom, because there _will_ be spilling.”

Luke grimaced, but he nodded.

Once his pulse had settled, Martin shuffled across the landing into the bathroom, Luke hovering beside him. Luke turned on the light.

Martin’s eyes burned and his vision whited out for a moment. He clapped his hands over his eyes. “God, Luke!” he exclaimed. “How high did you turn this up?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Martin heard the quiet creak of the dimmer. “I needed the light to put on my contacts and forgot to turn it back down. Is this better?”

Martin risked a peek through his fingers. “Yes.” He dropped his hands. Luke was squinting; clearly he had been blinded, too.

Martin settled on the edge of the bathtub. “Could you get some gauze and disinfectant?”

Luke looked like he had some serious second thoughts. But he opened the medicine cupboard and got it. “Is this really going to be necessary?” he asked, spreading the items out on the floor and sitting down opposite Martin.

Martin took Luke’s left arm. As gently as he could, he rolled up Luke’s sleeve. He didn’t reply, too steeped in more than a century’s worth of memories. He had watched too many people die of causes that were so easily preventable today. He cleared his throat and placed his fingers on his husband’s soft skin. Luke twitched. Martin lifted his eyes. “All right?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Luke laughed. “Sorry, it’s just… you’re _really_ cold.”

Martin chuckled. He ran his finger tips up and down Luke’s arm. Luke exaggerated his shivers and Martin laughed. “Hold still,” he scolded. 

“What are you doing, anyway?”

Martin was glad of the curiosity in Luke’s voice. It was much better than the apprehension that had been there before.”I’m looking for a good spot.”

“By touch?”

Martin gave him a quick smile. “Vampires are very sensitive to temperature. Ah, there we go.” Warmth spread out under his finger tips like the bud of a flower opening.

“Is that why you’re so clingy in the winter?” Luke asked. His voice wobbled a little.

“That’s part of it, yes.” Martin rubbed across the spot, enjoying the sensation of pleasant, pulsating warmth.

But he couldn’t keep Luke on edge forever. He squared his shoulders a little. “Here’s how this will go,” he said. “I’m going to bite you now. It’s going to hurt at first but it’ll go numb after a while.”

“Why’s that?” Luke mumbled. Martin felt his pulse quicken.

Martin was still a little embarrassed to say it. “Uhm, well. There’s a numbing agent in my saliva.”

Luke opened his mouth and closed it again. “That’s — well, that’s something I didn’t think I’d ever hear.”

“It contains blood thinner, too.” Martin felt himself blush. “I know it’s strange.”

Luke shrugged. “Biology, eh?” He cleared his throat. “Okay, let’s just get to it. How long are you going to need?”

“Fifteen, twenty minutes. Maybe more.” Martin put one hand on Luke’s cheek. “Are you ready?”

Luke swallowed and nodded decisively.

Martin smiled and caressed his cheek. “Thank you, darling.” He leaned forward to quickly kiss him. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Luke replied. “Now get on with it already.”

“All right.” Martin took Luke’s arm in both hands. He bent down, felt Luke brace himself, and sliced down the soft inside of Luke’s arm with one razor-sharp fang.

Blood welled up along the short cut immediately. Martin put his lips over it and lapped it up. 

He heard Luke suck in a sharp breath through his nose The pain was probably kicking in. Not taking his mouth off the cut, Martin moved one hand soothingly up and down Luke’s arm. He knew from previous donors that the pain usually didn’t get bad before the numbing agent took effect. He also knew that it would act more quickly if he didn’t stop. It occurred to him that he should probably have told Luke this beforehand. He cursed his Victorian upbringing. He was still so bad at communication sometimes. This was why he preferred bags.

Luke was tense; his hand twitched in his effort to keep still. Martin couldn’t stand to see him like that. He swallowed another mouthful and looked up. “Relax, dear.”

“Sorry.” Luke took a deep breath and slowly let it out through barely parted lips.

“It won’t hurt for much longer,” Martin promised.

“I’m dripping,” Luke said flatly. True enough, his blood had pooled at his wrist and was dripping on the floor.

“Oops.” Martin licked the spilled blood off Luke’s arm and put his mouth over the cut again. 

He was starting to feel better already; the throbbing in his temples had receded and his head didn’t feel like it was floating anymore. Luke was still breathing deliberately, and slowly, he relaxed.

“My arm’s numb,” he said after a while. “Like, all the way.” He sounded curious, amazed.

Martin smiled inwardly. This was what had endeared Luke to him in the first place, his curiosity and sense of wonder in even the most mundane things. And how it always, without fail, overpowered any fear and unease. 

For a while, the bathroom was quiet safe for the soft licks and occasional embarrassing slurps of Martin drinking. The cat wandered in at some point, chirping for attention. Luke let his free arm drop and the cat rubbed his head against his palm until he scratched his ears. At which point the cat flopped onto the ground and outside of Luke’s reach. 

Martin laughed against Luke’s skin.

The bathroom fell quiet again. The cat got bored and wanted to play with the gauze, but Luke shooed him away. He left, tail twitching indignantly.

Martin wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed when he swallowed for the last time and sat up, licking a few stray drops of blood off his lips. 

Luke looked up from his phone. “Done?”

Martin raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Why in the world are you on your phone?”

Luke shrugged. “Got bored after a while.”

Martin opened his mouth, but closed it again. He shook his head, and reached for the disinfectant. “You’re donating for the first time in your life,” he said, cleaning Luke’s wound, “and you get bored?”

Luke shrugged again. “It didn’t even hurt after a while. Would you watch someone have a drink for twenty minutes?”

“I — can’t say I would.” Martin began to bandage Luke’s arm. “How are you feeling? You look a little pale.”

“I’m okay,” Luke replied. “Bit tired, I suppose.”

Martin nodded, tying off the bandage. “Get up slowly,” he said. “Do you need to hold on to me?”

“I’ll be fine,” Luke said with a chuckle. But when he stood, he did sway. Martin reflexively took hold of his arm. “Whoop,” Luke said faintly.

“Head rush?”

Luke nodded.

“You should rest.” He guided Luke back to their bedroom. He pushed a handful of throw pillows at the foot end. “Put your feet up if you’re feeling dizzy,” he told Luke.

“Stop fussing,” Luke replied, half sitting up. 

“Hm.” Martin took a step back and regarded him. “No, I don’t think I will. I’ll get you some food and orange juice.”

Luke laughed and settled back into the pillows. “All right, if you insist on pampering me, I won’t complain.”

Martin gave him a smile and a kiss on the forehead.

Downstairs in the kitchen, the cat sat on the counter, meowing for milk. Martin opened the fridge and poured him a saucer. While the cat noisily lapped up the milk, Martin fried up some eggs and bacon for Luke while the coffee was brewing.

The cat chirped and rubbed against his legs, then scurried up the stairs. Martin saw his tail disappear in the bedroom. By the time Martin reached it, he was already kneading the pillows.

“How are you feeling?” Martin asked Luke, putting the tray down on Luke’s uncluttered bedside table.

“You’re going to ask me that every five minutes today, aren’t you?”

Martin shrugged and settled down next to him. 

“Do you want your coffee?” Luke had already reached for Martin’s mug on the tray.

“You’re a treasure,” Martin mumbled, plastering himself along Luke. He took the mug and had a long, relishing drink. 

The cat abandoned his kneading and squeezed between the two of them.

“You didn’t give him any milk, did you?”

“Oh.”

“Fluffy _bastard_ ,” Luke said with a laugh. He took a long drink of orange juice, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Martin touched his left fang with his tongue.

When Luke put the glass down, Martin took his chin and turned his face to kiss him, slow, long, and fond. “I love you,” he murmured into Luke’s ear, his hand grasping Luke’s shirt front. “I love you so much. I don’t think I tell you enough.”

“You tell me, like, twenty times a day,” Luke replied, a smile in his voice. He kissed Martin back. “I love you too.”

“Thank you for donating,” Martin said, resting his head on Luke’s shoulder.

“That,” Luke replied, “is not something you need to thank me for.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Beth for letting me spam her with random stuff about vampires at all hours of the day.
> 
> Vampire biology is based on real-life biology of vampire bats. Mostly.


End file.
